


In Another Life

by Dracareesi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Beating, Cross Over, Gen, Physical Abuse, Spinoff, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3484985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracareesi/pseuds/Dracareesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa meets Boromir........</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tommyginger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/gifts).



Ser Meryn Trant landed a blow on her stomach and Sansa collapsed onto the floor. He grabbed her by the hair and propped her up on her knees and the flat of Boros Blount's sword came down across the back of her thighs. Sansa fell forward and it seemed like ages before her head hit the ground. Trant kicked her in the side and she heard Joffery laughing but the noise was from a far away place and the pain was barely real. She saw Winterfell in her mind, the snow and the hard-faced Northmen. She saw her mother smiling at her. Then she saw her father and Ser Ilyn Payne standing above him, Joffery laughed again, the world faded away and she bid it good riddance.

Sansa's mind was blank. She didn't feel anything. There was no pain or fear or hatred, she just existed. A blinding light surrounded her and in it she saw things, ghosts of images but they pulled her closer. The high wall of a city, but it didn't fill her with dread like the sight of the Red Keep. The city rose towards the sky, sparkling and full of life, it beckoned her and promised her hope. Then she saw a white tree, and felt a familiar twinge of pain, the same kind she felt when she thought of her lost sister, her dead father, Winterfell.......

 

It had been four days since they set out from Rivendell when Sam found her. A breathtakingly lovely young maiden, lying motionless on the bank of a nameless river. She wore a dress of the softest blue silk but it was torn at the shoulder, her soft red hair was disheveled and strewn over her face. Her skin bruised black and blue where cruel hands had struck her. Her body was stiff and her fists were clenched. She looked like a queen but it wasn't very common for queens to be found unconscious on river banks. Indecisive of what to do Sam ran back to his companions and told them of his discovery. 

"You found a girl?", Merry asked, his tone making it apparent that he didn't believe a word of Sam's story. "Poor Rosie."

"It weren't like that.", Sam blushed and stammered. "She's hurt, she's lying by the river. We have to help her", he pleaded. Boromir, Legolas and Gimli had gone in search of game so he turned to Aragorn.

"Lead me to her", he said after a long silence. He picked up his sword and followed Sam as Gandalf sighed and started giving instructions on where to set up a fire. It was not long before they returned, Aragorn carrying the girl in his arms.  
"So he wasn't making it up", Pippin said, quite surprised but unable to take his eyes off her.

"No he wasn't." Aragon pulled out a few mysterious looking weeds and herbs and began working on healing her bruises.

"Do you know who she is? Where she is from?", he asked Gandalf but the wizard was as perplexed as the hobbits, though he did a better job of hiding it.

"She looks like a queen , doesn't she?", Sam said.

"A queen of what kingdom, Samwise Gamgee?", Gandalf said, irritably. It was obvious the wizard was not used to not knowing things and he did not like the sensation at all.

 

"Not this one you hopeless idiot.", Cersei threw the bottle of perfume at her handmaiden barely missing the poor girl. "Get out" she screamed and the girl quickly withdrew, stammering apologies, when she came out of her initial fright.

Tywin Lannister had never considered his daughter reliable for serious work but recent events had led him to declare her utterly incompetent and foolish. Joffrey had gone out of hand again, beating Sansa Stark to unconsciousness. Cersei had little power over her son, he did as he pleased and the Kingsguard were more than compliant. Her inability as a parent had cost them the North and the Lannister's key to winning it back hadn't woken up in four days.

Cersei knew that if the girl didn't wake up soon, they would have to kill her and make up a story. Their power in the North would then be based solely on their covert alliance with Roose Bolton, a man she wasn't stupid enough to trust.

"Lord Tyrion, Your Grace," the handmaiden's voice quivered as she announced the queen had a visitor. Tyrion walked in as the girl curtsied and fled from Cersei's look of contempt.

"Sansa is still unconscious."Tyrion said. "Father seems to hold you responsible."

"Father resents me more for being a woman than you for being a dwarf," Cersei spat out. "He will take every opportunity to hold me responsible for a misstep."

"He has instructed us to....... Uh...dispose of her, should she not wake in three more days." In the few moments Tyrion had hesitated, his sister had managed to pour herself a glass of wine and was already halfway through it. She looked at him now with a bitter smile.

"You're his favourite now. You! A twisted little monster!", Tyrion sighed as his sister laughed like a madwoman. "You're Jaime's replacement. To you're new post!", Cersei said raising her glass. "To the second most loved Lannister child!" Tyrion stood up to leave but she grabbed his hand. "Congratulations brother, your cock is taking you places!" Cersei cackled with laughter but all Tyrion could think about was poor Sansa Stark and her fate.

 

The Fellowship had travelled less than four leagues in three days. The maiden they had found hadn't shown any signs of improvement and her added weight had slowed them down. Gandalf and Legolas had suggested that they take the girl back to Rivendell where the elves would tend to her but Boromir had protested strongly, he was adamant on taking her to Gondor. Boromir had been enchanted from the moment he laid eyes on her, he sat by her motionless body for hours willing her to wake up, to say something. The girl affected Boromir like nothing had before, he had even confessed to Gandalf that he felt an odd recognition. She seemed like a bleak image of a distant time, like a memory that one cannot remember was from reality or a dream.

On the fourth morning after they had found her, the girl had still not awoken and Boromir had still not relented. The slow progress of the company didn't sit well with a few.

"We need to move, the enemy grows stronger. Time is of the essence.", Legolas whispered to Gandalf even though there was nobody close enough to hear him. "At this pace, it won't be long before Saruman finds us, we're sitting ducks. We have a duty to the ring-bearer. We have to protect Frodo."

"There is truth in what you say but we cannot abandon a helpless girl in these dangerous lands. Surely it goes against your noble elvish principles." Gandalf's eyes twinkled as he watched Legolas in his dilemma.

"Nonetheless we must destroy the ring quickly before the armies of Mordor grow strong enough to wage war.", said Legolas when he had finally made up his mind. Gandalf sighed deeply and nodded but said nothing.

"Why is Boromir so fascinated by her? She's beautiful, yes, but......."

"I do not know why Legolas, but I am grateful that she has taken away his attention from Frodo and the Ring."

That night around the fire other members of the Fellowship voiced their concerns and an argument was soon underway. Frodo sat in the rudimentary shelter they had built for the girl and kept an eye on her. The raised voices outside soon caught his attention and the hobbit could not help but feel a little guilty.

"Our objective was to protect Frodo in his quest to destroy the Ring. She is slowing us down." Aragon made his case concisely.  
"What do you suggest? We just leave a helpless maiden alone in the middle of nowhere?", Boromir said, flustered and angry that he was the only one on his side of the fence.  
"We can take her back to Rivendell." said Legolas, starting to lose patience.  
"No, she must go to Gondor. It's what's right.", Boromir heard the lack of reason in his plan but an inexplicable conviction forced him to stand by it. They continued to argue and he continued to vehemently oppose any course if action that wouldn't end with the maiden being in his white city.

 

The bright light soon began to fade and everything was dark again. Pain hit her suddenly and sharply, confusing her. Reality returned as she felt a slight breeze across her face and noticed sounds, slowly and reluctantly Sansa opened her eyes to face the world. But it wasn't the world she had run away from. She found herself lying on the cold ground being guarded by Tyrion Lannister. Sansa did not move, she willed herself to fall back into nothingness but her mind was growing more accustomed to the surroundings.

She lay still but began to focus, the creature guarding her was not Tyrion, he was smaller and had hairy feet. He hadn't noticed her yet, he was listening to the men arguing outside. Making not a sound, Sansa slowly reached for a tree branch that lay near her. She leapt to her feet suddenly, surprising the creature. Before he could speak, she whacked him across the face with the branch, knocking him off his feet. She snatched the sword from the sheath on his hip and ran out. Sansa found herself facing several men of various shapes and sizes. She was bewildered and afraid but for the first time in her life, she stood her ground.

"Back away from me, back away I said.", She held up her tiny sword and ignored the tremble in her voice.  
"We won't hurt you, we want to help you.", said an impossibly fair-haired man, putting down his bow and arrow in show of good faith. Sansa wanted to trust him but her instinct told her to run, her hands shook and she fought back the urge to cry.  
"It's alright my lady, put down the sword," the voice was calm and strong and she knew it better than the sound of her own. Her fear of forgetting it had only etched it further into her memory. Sansa didn't believe her ears so she turned her head to look at the man who had spoken. The face that looked back at her was filled with concern, the same furrowed brow and grim mouth that had greeted her after her falls while learning to ride and her long walks with Joffery during the journey to King's Landing. 

"Father", she said, her voice breaking. "Father", she whispered again,the sword fell from her hand and she sank to the ground in tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was finally able to update this. Thank you guys so much for being patient and for all the comments on the previous chapter. I hope you enjoy this one! :D

There had been a big confusion at first, the pretty maiden couldn't be persuaded to stop crying and answer their questions about her identity and her home. Her eyes darted, examining the people of all sorts that surrounded her and she viewed all with askance. She went into sudden fits of panic, alternated with hysterical sobbing as she constantly accused Boromir of being her father which led most of the Fellowship to conclude that the beautiful and mysterious girl had surely met with some fate that had relieved her of her mental capabilities. Boromir was the young heir to Gondor, yet to have entered the complex maze of parenthood.

Boromir himself, denied her claims but remained as mesmerized by her hysteria as he had been with her motionless, unconscious form. He had gently persuaded her to sit down and had offered her water and soothing words. 

"We want to help you my lady, to take you home. But we can't if we don't know where your home is. Calm down, child, and tell me your name."

The girl looked up at him with blank disbelief, she had evidently expected Boromir to recognize her. Her expression shifted between sadness and denial as she tried to convince him she was his daughter. "But, don't you remember me Father? I'm Sansa, your oldest daughter. Sansa Stark of Winterfell." 

"Sansa," said Boromir, in a solemn voice. "I'm not your father. I'm Boromir of Gondor. Now, I need you to tell me where Winterfell is, so I can take you back home."

The girl's eyes showed a moment's hopelessness and despair before she began again in a renewed effort to make him realize who he was. "No, no, you are Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North, my father. Don't you remember Winterfell? Don't you remember the towers, the gates, the crypts?" Her voice rose in desperation, she walked back an forth as she tried to think of something that would make him remember. 

"Mother!" she screamed suddenly. "Lady Catelyn, your wife, do you remember her? The most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms, her Tully auburn hair, her lovely face, please tell me you remember Father." She pleaded with him and the Fellowship stood by and watched her with pity filling their hearts till Gandalf's voice rang through.

"Seven Kingdoms? What Seven Kingdoms do you talk of child?"

"The Seven Kingdoms of Westeros." the girl said utterly bewildered. A moment later she was on her guard again. "Where am I?" she asked, suspicious but scared. "Am I across the Narrow Sea? Are you slavers?"

"That we most certainly are not. You are in Middle Earth, just over seven days from Rivendell. And we know not of which seven kingdoms you speak and we certainly do not know of a sea we would dare to call narrow."

"Middle Earth? And you've never heard of the Seven Kingdoms? And you say you are not Lord Eddard. This is like one of Old Nan's stories. Have I travelled across worlds? Have I left mine behind?" She had meant it as a joke but what if the legends were true? Sansa's head was spinning with excitement and an enormous relief.

"Middle Earth, you say?"

"Yes. And what world are you from?" Boromir asked, unquestioningly accepting her theory of travel across worlds and still unable to shake the feeling of familiarity in the back of his mind.

"I'm from Westeros." Sansa said, turning to the man her eyes told her was her Lord father. "It is huge country made up of Seven Kingdoms. Winterfell is the northernmost, that's where I am from. I am the daughter of The Lord of Winterfell," the longer she looked at his face, the more she realized that he wasn't her father.

Lord Eddard Stark's face had been that of a man burdened with the worries of an idealistic ruler and the inimitable strength of one who has seen death and war and suffering. The face before her was filled with the vitality and ambition of the young. "Probably the face Mother knew, and King Robert," Sansa thought.

"Sansa?", his voice snapped her out of her trance and this time when she looked at his face, she didn't see her father.

"Sansa, how did you hurt yourself?", his brow wrinkled with concern. Sansa looked down at herself, noticing her condition for the first time. Her dress was as torn and there were bruises on her arms. She registered the soreness in her thighs and stomach and the memories came flooding back.

Joffrey, the maniac who had tormented her. The Kingsguard bereft of honor or mercy. Cersei Lannister and her hidden threats. Sansa remembered all the nights she had cried into her pillow wishing for it all to end, praying to the Old Gods to help her escape or to let her die. After all this time her prayers had finally been answered. She had escaped not to another land but to another world! A surge of happiness ran through her and Sansa began to laugh.

The Fellowship were quite bewildered by the girl. One moment she was scared, the next suspicious, and now she was almost tripping over herself laughing! Laughing when asked about her wounds no less! The hobbits were amused, Legolas and Gimli were confused, Gandalf was just a little bit annoyed and Aragorn's face was unreadable. The only one who seemed to understand the situation on some level was Boromir, who smiled weakly at Sansa. He knew her laughter was cathartic, there's no knowing how, but he did.

"You really don't know, do you? This really is another world!", Sansa managed through the sudden fit of coughs that took hold of her as a consequence of hysterical laughing. She took the water Pippin offered her, and giggled when she saw his wide eyed bewilderment. She gave him a beaming smile which was meant to put him at ease but managed to bewilder him some more. Since his manners worked like clockwork, he returned her smile and bowed like any well bred hobbit would, then returned to where his huddle of equally bewildered friends.

"No, Sansa, we do not know. And I suppose this is a world different from yours." said Boromir. "So would you tell us, my lady? Tell us about your world, your seven kingdoms and your Winterfell. And how came you, by such injuries?"

"These wounds are gifts from my betrothed. King Joffrey of the House Baratheon, Protector of the Realm." Sansa said bitterly. "I was to marry a gallant prince, or so I thought. But he was a monster. And I was the fool who loved him and thought he loved me."

The Fellowship sat around her and listened intently as she told her tale. She described Winterfell in great detail and her family too. She recounted her infatuation with Joffrey and her trip to King's Landing, and then the breaking of her family and betrayal of her father. She told them of how Joffrey had tormented her and smiled weakly at their outrage. Sansa had forgotten what it was like to live in a world where she could trust in the kindness of men, Cersei had driven that out of her. But surrounded by these strange people in a strange land, she felt safer than she ever had in the fortified towers of the Red Keep. 

 

Tyrion was faced with a million problems. Stannis was preparing for war, so was Robb Stark and in the absence of Jaime Lannister he had no choice but to rely on Bronn to lead the Gold Cloaks and the Red. There was no food coming into King's Landing and the smallfolk were getting restless. Joffrey and his crossbow had managed to alienate most of them and the rest had started stealing or deserting. Yes, Tyrion was faced with far too many problems but showing the telling signs of a good ruler, he had never felt more alive.

"What is the meaning of this?", Joffrey barged through the door of Tyrion's chambers.

Tyrion went on with his work in silence, refusing to acknowledge the outburst.

"Answer me, Imp!", His Grace's voice was laced with royal contempt.

"What is it that upsets you, your Grace?", Tyrion didn't bother to look up from his work.

"My crossbow! Where is it? I sent it to the armory to have the string fixed and the smith told me you took it!!"  


Tyrion put down in quill and looked up to meet Joffrey's eyes. "I did. You have no right to a crossbow if you don't know how to use it properly. Your Grace may learn the art like the rest of the knights, from the Master of Arms."

"I will have your head for this, you little bastard. I will..." Joffrey couldn't finish his sentence before his uncle had landed a slap across his face. Tyrion was the only one who could discipline this insolent king, not to mention he quite enjoyed doing it.

"HOW DARE YOU?", Joffrey roared with rage.

"Its your love of chopping heads that had gotten us into this!" Tyrion did not expect that his thick headed nephew would understand the principles of governance but it was his duty to try and teach him. "Robb Stark has your uncle Jaime, do you think he will not do to him what you did to his father? Sansa was our only way of getting him back and now you've managed to ruin that too!"

"Sansa isn't dead, and I am NOT giving her back!"

"It is not your choice. You are a king and you must do what's right for your people. And since you are a fool, I will decide what is right for your people or Robb Stark will have your head on a pike before the war even begins." Tyrion basked in Joffrey's angry glare. It gave him a sort of childish glee to deny his arrogant and stupid nephew the things he thought were his right as the monarch.

"Now, Your Grace, I expect you to walk among our men and talk to them, try to give them courage and vow to fight alongside them. They will follow a king who leads by example otherwise they will desert us as soon as Stannis's ships are in sight." The last words seemed to have some effect on the boy. Even as he stormed out of the room, Tyrion was fairly confident he wouldn't give up the opportunity to appear a brave king. But if Joffrey made any more of these blunders, the day wasn't far when Lannister heads would adorn the towers of the Red Keep.


End file.
